Lokison
by sifshadowheart
Summary: Death watches over young Harry Potter and takes him from the Dursley's doorstep to a place where he can be trained and raised to be a hero at Camp Half-Blood according to an agreement between Harry's mortal parents and his divine father. Covers Books 1-7 of Harry Potter and 1-5 of Percy Jackson (more HP than PJ). Not pairing focused.
1. Intro

Author's Note: Lokison is my interpretation of an Avengers/Thor/Percy Jackson *Light on the Percy Jackson storyline*/Harry Potter hodgepodge of a story. There is little to no action on the Avengers/Thor front except for one character that I've borrowed, that all takes place in the Intermission story where Thor events are presented as they affect this storyline and then Godling takes over for the events of Avengers and Thor: Dark World. So if you're looking for Ironman or the Hulk to swoop in and have the day...yeah that's not happening.

Something else that's not happening is a permanent pairing for Harry. That's in Godling although there will be cute little ships here and there for him to cut his proverbial teeth on in the relationship game.

Most of the story stays at least in step with canon for Lokison although there's a major divergence in the events of book 5 OotP where it really goes off into non-canon land thereafter.

That said, I hope you enjoy it and updates will be weekly on Fridays although you get a double for this first one and extra updates are not out of the question depending on how quickly things unfold.

**Disclaimer: Yeah, I don't own any of this...**


	2. Prologue

Prologue - A Deathly Intervention

Thanatos, the Greek God of Death and Patron God of the Ignotus Peverell Wizarding lineage, allowed a small grimace to cross his normally implacable face. This was his night of all nights, All Hallows Eve, when his powers reached their greatest point of the year upon mortal Earth. And that thrice-damned Riddle was ruining it!

One night.

That's not a lot to ask for and most of the pantheons, hells, even the Elder Gods agreed!

One night out of the year when the various gods and avatars of Death herself can enjoy some peace.

The rest of the time they are among the busiest but correspondingly the most powerful of gods and divine beings, Thanatos's blatant patronage of the Ignotus Peverell line and not being quickly subject to smiting by one of the Elders proved that rather well in the Greek's opinion. One simply did not fuck around with Death's chosen few for as She has proven time and again She can and will come for anyone, even a god. More a primordial force than an actual divine being, Death and Her sisters Chaos, Magic, and Her twin Life, are forces that few dare to ever take on.

Unfortunately one of the Fates from one of the many pantheons, and Thanatos had suspicions but no proof over which Fate from which pantheon, had taken it in her head to play with the last of the Peverells, utilizing prophecy and a tool in the form of a meddling old manipulator to wind up the last of the Cadmus Peverell line who also happened to be Slytherin's-bloody-heir and unleash him on the last of the Ignotus Peverell line. Thanatos's favored line. The last remaining offspring of one of the few mortals Thanatos ever named as friend.

It would not do.

Fortunately, Thanatos knew something that lone irritating bint of a Fate did not know.

For all that Harry James Potter, Heir of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, youngest and now last of the Peverells, had just watched/listened as both James and Lily Potter were both ruthlessly murdered, he was, by no means, an orphan.

Harry Potter had a secret. Or more appropriately James and Lily Potter had a secret that would set young Harry on a very different path than the one Fate and Dumbledore had designed for him. After all, being raised ignorant and in the hands of muggles wouldn't do when one is the son of a god. Especially if that god is one firmly outside of the control of the Fate that decided to toy with the life of a demigod and eventual Heir of multiple thrones...

...

It took swift action. Not difficult when one can sift through space and time but not particularly easy either when one isn't used to utilizing his powers in such a way. A god of Death never has to worry particularly much about things like stealth and being discovered. Death is. There's no real point in being subtle about it or worrying about hiding a magical signature or concealing his power from the Mage sight some Wizards have.

Death is.

Thanatos on the other hand, needed at this moment to completely squash any notions of meddling or interference from the Wizarding world. Including Fate's pet Dumbledore. Thanatos had Looked, had Seen what would come of allowing events to play out and they simply would not do. Not as far as either he or Harry's true born father were concerned that is. Thanatos and Harry's father both had soft spots for James Potter, each for very different reasons and had assisted him in his quest for an Heir. In many ways, Harry was as thrice-blessed as Riddle was thrice-damned. Between his godly father, his adoptive father James - all nice and tidy for the goblins and Wizardkind in-case anyone ever discovered who actually fathered Harry - and the blessing of Thanatos, Harry was indeed blessed. And powerful with it.

Nothing good would come of the child being raised according to Dumbledore's mechanations.

But Thanatos had an alternative.

One that Harry's father had approved and that would've garnered the approval of Lily and James if they ever had any inkling events would devolve to this state of things.

First things first. The Trace. Thanatos noticed that piece of magical idiocy already in place on Harry. One wave of his incorporeal hand and the device tuned to the toddler was disabled. He would remove it completely but that might cause his soon-to-be-ward trouble down the road. A quick flex of his Will and a Writ of Guardianship was made according to the slightly altered Wills of the Potters Thanatos placed on file.

Guardians of Record:

Thanatos Domini Grimm - his current muggle alias - and one Chiron Trainter.

Another moment and the Writ and Wills were magically sealed, beyond even the power of the Wizengamot to unseal without it being requested by Harry once he reached the age of majority.

Sighing he rolled his shoulders. Thanatos hadn't meddled like that in human affairs since the river incident with the Peverell brothers. It felt remarkably good. Closing his eyes he reviewed his list. There were a great many things to do and arrange, not the least of which was meet Harry's father in person and alert him to what steps he's taken on his son's - and Heir's - behalf. Still the next thing shouldn't be hard, rather it might even be fun...except for having to wait on the barmy old coot to hurry up and leave Harry on the steps of Privet Drive after...acquiring a few things from the Potter and Peverell vaults. Not to mention he hasn't been to Camp Half-Blood in...eons, really.

Should be fun.

...


	3. Chapter 1

Chapter One

...

Across the ocean at Camp Half-Blood, nestled discretely outside of New York City, New York; Chiron, centaur, trainer of heroes and son of Kronus watched in half-disbelief and half-dismay as a new cabin extended and grew from the depths of Half-Blood Hill facing the Camp grounds. Inky black stone made up the classical Greek architecture with tall pillars and fluted columns set against smooth walls with a solid obsidian door set in a ruby archway. As the sigil of the god or goddess in question who caused this change in the Camp, making the few half-bloods who stayed year round shiver under the pall of expectation that swam through the air, etched itself into door Chiron let out a breath in sheer relief.

This cabin wasn't for a child of Hades after all.

Rather, etched into the glassy volcanic rock was another sigil, one that while it relieved the trainer's fear of the Pact being ruptured did nothing to raise his spirits either. The child of such a god could very well be a terrifying power all on their own, even without the lineage of the Big Three: Zeus, Poseidon, or Hades. After all, the scythe and sword of Thanatos was feared long before Zeus was born and cut down Kronus. There are even some among the Greeks who believe that Thanatos could very well be the oldest and most powerful of Death's avatars and chosen gods to represent Her.

One thing is for certain. Whoever this new demigod/goddess is, they were a startling omen with the Big Three prophecy yet to be fulfilled.

...

"Chiron." Thanatos stepped from the shadows, only his face with its inky-black eyes bared to the centaur's sight, into the morning gloom and stood beside the watchful trainer.

"Lord Thanatos." Chiron gave a respectful nod to the Avatar. "I wasn't expecting you to come yourself...although I do appreciate the chance to get the answers I know Diyonsius is going to be asked by the others of the Council."

Thanatos gave a low chuckle as he shifted the bundle in his arms. He'd known that Cadmus's heir had horribly maimed both himself and his soul during the course of his life but never thought it would mark young Harry in such a way. Fortunately he'd caught the sliver of Riddle's tainted soul before it could finish latching onto his charge with only the faintest of residual powers passing onto the child. Just enough to wake a few of the more latent powers he might've possessed on his own but not enough to weaken or taint him in any way. Laughing to himself, Thanatos knew already what the little godling's first Quest would be...

Amusement ripe in his voice, the god deigned to relieve some of the trainer's worries.

"It's not my child who you're being given charge over, old friend." Thanatos watched a ripple of confusion cross an unaging face. "He is the last of an ancient line blessed by me in ages past with my blessing reborn in him."

Chiron thought rapidly. The only instance even rumored of Thanatos showing favor to a mortal line...wasn't truly to a mortal at all but to one of Magic's own children. A wizard and necromancer who befriended Death's Avatar of all mad things.

"A Peverell?"

The white slash of Thanatos's quick grin showed in the burgeoning light. The centaur always was quick.

"A Potter." He said with a quirk of his brow. "Harry James Potter, last of his line and a godling with it."

Godling. Chiron blinked. Not a half-blood but an actual godling, a child of the gods that would eventually gain immortality and godhood all on his own, without having to undergo trials and the tests of heroes in order to join his divine parent in the Heavens. There hasn't been a true godling in eons, not since the youngest of Celtic pantheon was born.

"His human father was the last of my blessed, and unable to sire children on his own. But I wasn't the only god who favored James Potter nor found his wife to be a stunningly beautiful - and powerful - witch. A pact was made. Now in my arms is the orphaned result of that pact. A Wizarding child of great power from his human parents, with a full measure of immortality and gifts from his divine father and blessed by an Avatar of Death. A prophecy child, as well." Thanatos gave a humorless smile as Chiron goggled at him. "His trueborn name is Frey Haraldr and no before you ask I'm not going to reveal who his divine parent his, while Harry James Potter is his Wizarding name bestowed on him after undergoing an adoption ceremony with the now-late James."

Pulling himself together Chiron came quickly to a realization about the toddler that he could now clearly see.

"He could never live in the mortal world." He shook his head. "Not until he freezes into his immortality. Wizarding, maybe. But most definitely not mortal. Monsters would find him before the day was out."

"That's why I've brought him to you, old friend." Thanatos smiled, as they moved inside the home he'd created for Harry. A wave of his hand and trunks filled with books and grimoires from the Peverell and Potter vaults appeared as a fire started up in the monstrous hearth carved into one wall. While the outside of the cabin was foreboding and stark, the inside was rather welcoming with the large fire lit and the crystal lights filled with flame. A large, open room with two doors leading off of it, the cabin had a certain flair to it. One door led to a sumptuous bathing room, including a Roman bath and steam shower while the other led to a gigantic closest filled with clothes of all sizes that would fit the godling perfectly up until he reached his immortality. Along the opposite wall from the doors were weapons of all shapes and sizes, many of which came from Harry's family vaults.

As they moved further into the room towards ebony wood crib in the place where one day would stand a king-sized bed, the trunks opened and the books began to sort themselves out into the bookshelves as Chiron shudders for a moment at the feeling of distinctly foreign magic. Thanatos shot him a look and gave him a short explanation.

"Harry's - or rather Frey's - father. While my powers made the building, his have furnished is. He would have claimed Frey the moment Lily was struck down but he would be no safer there than he would be among the mortals. Until his child reaches his immortality and his life no longer at risk, my old friend will have to content himself with doing what little he can from a distance, although he may be able to sneak away for a visit once or twice a year."

"Who will look after the child while he's still so young?" Chiron finally asked the question that's been burning at his mind. He knew full well that Thanatos could only spend the time that he has because of the All Hallows. If Frey was only going to see his father once or twice a year, he would likely only see his patron the same or even less. Camp Half-Blood simply wasn't equipped to raise such a small child, especially one that would be alone instead of tucked away with his half-siblings like many of the others who stay throughout the year.

"I'm still the Harvest Lord." Thanatos smiled as one of his handmaidens stepped from the shadows, her gleaming bronze hair adding warmth to the room. "A few of my ladies will take turns caring for Frey and teaching him. Once he's old enough to train they will let you know. Until then, he will be watched over entirely by this lovely creature. Heidi," he motioned her forward as another bed appeared along with a dresser and a few women's things. "Will be his primary caretaker with others assisting."

"It is an honor, my Lord." Heidi said with a soft smile and a nod towards the god and centaur as she took the godling into her arms and proceeded to finish settling him down into his crib for a much-needed nap. Murder and mayhem and intrigue, all in one night. The poor mite was knackered. "Caring for a youngling like this will be a joy, not a duty."

"Heidi was a children's nurse before signing up to help in the battlefield tents in France during the human's Great War." Thanatos explained to the curious Chiron. "She is the most qualified among my ladies to care for and love a child. Others will come and go, to teach and train Frey or simply to give Heidi a rest. But she will be with him until he leaves for schooling according to his parents' wishes, then returning every summer as he does."

"That will certainly make things easier." Chiron admitted.

"Oh," Thanatos said with a wicked grin. "Nothing about Frey will ever be easy or even easier. But his father and I consulted upon his "orphaning" and we agreed with this course. It is best for all involved."

Motioning to Heidi, he cast a look at the sleeping toddler. "Come." He said, stepping out of the building. "Frey's father wants to see him before I go and my masking presence with me."

...

Loki Odinson waited in the shadows as his longtime friend and companion of his lone daughter Hela stepped outside, taking his son's new trainer and caretaker with him, grief filling him.

The Potters were two of the lone Midgard inhabitants that gave his jaded heart hope for the future. Most were still ignorant, rough, rude creatures but mischievous James with his Marauders and lovely, kind Lily were two apart. That that fool Dumbledore was at this moment setting things in place that would have the last two loyal Marauders segregated from Frey - as he doesn't know and Frigga-willing won't find out about Frey missing - filled him with wrath. Remus and Sirius were true believers and followers of Loki, like James. And due to a prophecy that would rule his son's life if he allowed it and the rules enforced by his father Odin, Loki couldn't do a damned thing about it.

All he could do was collude with Thanatos to have Frey removed from the situation and use his not inconsiderable power to keep the aging Headmaster from learning of Frey's location in a place other than where he left him.

Petunia Evans-Dursley.

What a waste of human flesh.

If Lily was a bright beacon of hope to his jaded self then Petunia was a sop to his disdain, being everything he hates about humans.

He would usher in the end of days before he would allow that woman, that creature, to come within ten feet of his son.

No.

He wasn't going to let Frey be used by a Fate. He's already lost Hela because of Fate, Odin casting her down into Helheim, banishing her for no more crime than that of being born. If he wanted Frey to become the strong, powerful warrior, mage, and god the Norns foresaw upon his birth, Loki was going to have to bend the rules. In truth Frey doesn't belong at Camp Half-Blood, it being the province of Greek demigods. But thanks to Thanatos, he now has a legitimate place here and the legal protections he would need among the wizards to continue to stay here once he started attending school.

Hogwarts.

Loki sighed as he stared down at his son.

There wasn't much he regretted about the pact between himself and the late Potters that gave birth to his beautiful son but that clause is something he wished he could undo.

Potters go to Hogwarts.

Period.

The End.

While the Harvest Maidens could train his mind and to an extent some of his abilities, Chiron could make a legendary warrior of him, and Thanatos could share his wealth of wisdom, only Loki himself could train his magics outside of a wizarding school. Once a year or maybe twice if he's lucky isn't enough time to train him fully, even with the help of the Potter and Peverell writings and texts. Frey had to go to a wizarding school.

Beauxbatons would make a statesman and diplomat of him, training him with a grace and elegance.

Drumstrang would make a warrior and general of him, lashing his power to his will.

But Potters were for Hogwarts, where their ability to bring out the best in their student was only outshine by their ability to enhance the worst traits of their students. If Loki had left things alone, Hogwarts, especially Dumbledore, would've taken a hero and made a martyr. Now he could only hope that the next ten years worth of work coupled to summers returning here would prevent the worst of the old coot's meddling. He could only hope.

Frey Haraldr Lokison would be no man's martyr.

Loki himself would guarantee it.

Bright green eyes, a few shades lighter than Lily's own emerald and more in line with Loki's own shade of Avada Kedavra green, peered up sleepily at Loki's hovering form, pulling him from his thoughts.

"Far." A little voice said, confused. Little Harry/Frey wasn't used to seeing his Far outside of his dreams where Loki would peek in from time-to-time and cuddle or play games with his young son. It wasn't the same as being there, but it was what they had.

"Morning, little prince." Loki crouched down and lifted Frey's sturdy little body into his wiry arms, reveling in the feel of his son.

"Mama." He looked around in worry at the new surroundings. Bad things came in the night, hurt his Mama and made his Daddy yell. Bad things. A bad man.

Closing his eyes in pain, Loki held him close a moment before looking down into the too-old eyes of his son. Seeing death at such young an age...

"Mama is in Valhalla, little prince." Loki said softly. And she was. He'd checked. While James was in Elysium among his family, Lily'd preferred Frigga to Hera and Odin to Zeus. Her own, er, encounters with Loki only cemented that belief. Although he was sure that if Thanatos had been given the option by the Valkyries he would've taken her as one of his own Handmaidens.

"Daddy?"

"Elysium."

A little lip began to tremble as his young mind recalled what little he'd been taught about those places. People who go there don't come back. Not ever.

"Far!" This time it was a mournful sound as the little one buried his head into his Father's silken Asgardian doublet, tears finally unleashing in a torment of sobs.

"Shhh, little prince." Loki rubbed one lean hand along his son's back and gave him a kiss on the head, voice lowering in conviction over his next words. "It's all going to be alright, Frey. Far will watch over you. It's all going to be okay."

...


	4. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

...

Seven year old Frey Lokison danced in place as he waited anxiously for his Far and his Grim (as he'd taken to calling Thanatos after hearing Chiron ribbing the Death god over his mortal cover). Every year since his parents - his other parents - died he got to spend time with his Far on his birthday and with both his Far and his Grim on All Hallows Eve. Thanks to an artifact Chiron "loaned" Frey's father that was a gift from Chiron's father - the Titan of Time - those two visits a year wound up being a little more longer than a single night or a single day.

During that time none of them need to eat, or sleep, or anything other than spending time together, more time than they would normally have. On All Hallows they limited it to only a week, spent mostly teaching Frey about Wizarding traditions from both the general culture and the Peverell and Potter family histories with Loki inserting knowledge about the magics behind the traditions and what things are similar or different between Asgard and Midgard. But first they perform three rituals, all to honor the dead and loved ones lost. They start with the general All Hallows Eve ritual that both the Peverells and Potters still follow, Olde Magic, before undergoing the Greek one for family in Elysium to honor James and then the Asgardian for Lily.

It was the one time of year where Frey felt connected with his other parents.

The rest of the year was devoted to his studies with Heidi and the other Harvestmaidens. Even though he was blessed by Grim and Far's son he still needed a solid eight hours of sleep, which was about two hours less than a human seven year old child. His Far told him that he would keep needing less and less sleep until he "froze" into his immortality. Living forever sounded fun to him, he'd get to spend time with his Far and sometimes Grim and finally meet his Uncle Thor and his Grandparents and his Far's friend Lady Sif. But he also understood something else. That he would never get to spend time with his Mama or Daddy in Elysium or Valhalla.

Far had gone to the Potter home in Godric's Hallow and collected the family albums and the wardstones that would allow Frey to access the Potter estates when he was older. It helped keep his other parents alive in his memory. A mother that loved him enough to sacrifice her life on the chance to save him and an adoptive father who loved his mother enough to make a deal with a god to give her a son and continue his family line then fought a madman to try and give his wife and son time to escape. His other parents were heroes, just like Grim said he would be one day.

Frey didn't quite know what to make of that. He was only seven after all, the youngest "camper" at Camp Half-Blood he'd rather spend time with the naiads in the lake than studying Wizarding laws and etiquette with Heidi or learning archery and swordplay with the older campers than philosophy and social-political fundamentals with Chiron. Frey for all that he was younger knew that he was different from the others. Most just had their home-study programs for regular school so that the ones who stay here with him all year can graduate one day and go to college once their monster draw fades. He was different. He was learning all of that, reading, writing, mathematics, Ancient Greek and Olde English and Norse, plus all the "hero" classes. But he had other things to learn to. The different things.

The Lord things. That's who he was, thanks to his Daddy. Lord Potter.

How to manage an estate. How to know friend from acquaintance from foe from influence-seekers. How to wield political power in a way that matches his ideals and doesn't offend his conscience. All things Lords need to know to survive plus all the things he needs to know to fit in. Things like dancing, what Heidi calls "social graces", horseback riding both on horses and pterippi, and what Chiron calls "noble arts" like how not to offend an important guest even if they're both his enemy and rude. Plus poetry, art, and lots of other things.

Then there were the birthday visits with his Far where they fit a month inside a day with Chiron's gift.

A month every year where Loki tries to teach his son things even more above and beyond than his current curriculum. But that was expected. Frey wasn't a normal child with normal expectations but the expectations they had for him weren't completely unreasonable either. No one expected him to be a statesman and warrior and poet all at seven years of age. No. They were merely laying the foundation for later in his life when all the little things they taught him know would combine into a much larger picture. Frey would be the very essence of both a modern-day renaissance man and an olde-world gentleman and warrior.

He would be a Prince of Asgard and Lord Potter, he would have responsibilities in two worlds with two different sets of expectations. And while good manners are good manners wherever one roams, it's the little nuances that separate one born into a life from one who didn't quite belong. It was those little things that would be the difference between his little prince being treated like a Prince and Lord or like a second-class citizen who never quite measures up to the rest. Raised in Midgard or not, Loki'd be damned first before he allowed some of the bigots in Asgard to make his son feel shamed for any reason.

Part of his birthday "month" was always spent in pure fun for both divine-father and godling-son. Playing with their magics. Loki while born with much of his own, only became God of Magic after being trained in the arts by his mother Frigga and blessed later by Magic herself. He was uniquely suited to helping a wizard-born godling learn and grow in his magics. And with the warding surrounding Camp Half-Blood, no one was ever the wiser.

...

"Far!" Frey rushed towards the shadows as Thanatos and Loki stepped from them and into the cabin. A once rather sparse large room with its weapons and black walls, over the years toys and mementos of a child's presence slowly crept in, creating a unique sense of both might and warmth. From the pretty multicolored glass orbs that Loki and Frey use in their magic practice to the leopard skin rugs that Grim brought back from a trip to "collect" a poacher, there were signs of life all around.

"My little prince," Loki swooped up his son into his arms beaming a smile up at him as he took in the small signs of growth and maturation that have occurred in the last three months since he's seen him. To Thanatos's eyes he's change even more, shooting up another couple inches from his visit last All Hallows Eve.

"You're getting big." The Death god observed as he plucked the child from the air as Loki tossed him in a habit that he would be far too old and big for if the ones tossing him about like a Quaffle weren't gods. "I almost didn't recognize you this time."

Frey grinned and rolled his bright green eyes. With Loki's genes and not living in a dark place, he'd never developed a need for glasses.

"You always say that!"

"And it's always true." Thanatos swung the child before placing him back on his own two feet. "One of these times I'm going to show up and not even know you anymore."

"Mmm." Frey hummed under his breath and cocking his head to one side. "Regina from the Apollo cabin said that I'm going to be bigger than Far one day."

The gods traded a glance. Apollo was the Greek patron of many things, not the least of which was prophecy. It's not unheard-of for one of his many, many children to have at least a touch of foresight.

"She did, did she?" Loki arched a brow as they settled down onto the furs before the fire and set up Chiron's device. "What else did Regina say?"

"That I'm like you but I'm like my, my..." Frey frowned thinking back to the exact wording she used. Regina was almost a grown-up and sometimes used words he didn't know yet. "Tempest-us,"

"Tempestuous?" Loki prompted thinking about his stormy brother Thor. Heart of gold but a temper to shake the heavens themselves. He winced. Lily had a devil's temper and Loki wasn't known for being a forgiving man. With that combination Frey could just as easily be the god of Grudges as of Heroes or whatever his designation will be. Not even the Norns who he consulted in absolute secrecy can foresee what type of god Frey will be.

"That's the word." Frey nodded. "Tempestuous uncle, but in good ways. She said that I'll be tall and strong, like you and uncle combined."

"That's all good things, Frey." Thanatos smiled at him. A dark-haired green-eyed god that split the difference in height and muscle mass between Loki and Thor? He would be magnificent as a mature man.

Frey frowned. "She said something else too." He said slowly, thinking hard. "That just because my path is straight and true doesn't mean that it's not dangerous and dark. That there are things in the shadows that could help or hurt me and that not everything in the Light is as it seems. That I'll be both hunter and hunted of those closest to me and those I've never met."

"It sounds like Regina was trying to scare you with her gift." Loki growled a moment, eyes glowing. Who the hells tells a seven year old that his path will be "dangerous and dark?"

"No." Frey said after a moment with a sigh before grinning brightly up at the two most important beings in his world. "She said that I just have to have faith in me and in you, Far. Then everything will turn out right."

"Excellent." Thanatos clapped his hands, wanting to get the topic off of prophecy as quickly as possible. There's already been too much soothsaying around Frey already, he'd have to talk to Chiron about watching the Apollos and especially this Regina around Frey. "Nothing to worry about then."

"Nope." Frey grinned, almost bouncing in place as Loki set up the ritual space. "Nothing to worry about."

...

Nine year old Frey wiggled in excitement in his spot by the window in the camp's van. They were on their way to their annual visit at the Natural History Museum for the kids who stay over during the year and this is the first time he was old enough and with enough training to go. Silena from the Aphrodite cabin told him all about it this summer when she was visiting and her brothers and sisters were helping Heidi with his etiquette training.

Frey likes archery with the Apollos and his bladed weaponry training with the Ares' better but no one was nicer than the Aphrodites. To him at least. When he gets bigger that'll change according to his Far, when the girls start noticing him as a boy and the "boy starting seeing him as competition due to their own inferiority" at least that's what Far says. It's kinda weird to think about but with how the other campers treat the girls from the Aphrodite cabin sometimes it's easy to believe.

Even though girls are still icky.

Except for the Ares girls...but he's still not sure if they really count as girls.

Silena told him all about the two places he wants to see the most: the butterfly exhibit with the thousands and thousands of butterflies and the Hayden Planetarium. One of the things Chiron was starting to teach him was astronomy and how to read the stars. Frey wanted to see if he could spot the World Tree or one of the Bifrost's portals in the maps and exhibits in the Planetarium.

To finally see something of his Far's world.

Heidi even agreed to let him go alone!

As long as he stays close to one of the older campers. His favorite is one of the satyrs named Grover. Grover is really young for a satyr but he's in training to be a Seeker like his uncle, getting a chance to go and search out the Elder god Pan. He's one of the only people Frey spends time around during the year that's not either one of his actual trainers/caretakers or in their teens.

The satyr might still be a lot older than him but not in a way that makes Frey feel like a pest if he hangs around outside of lessons.

It's better during the summers when there's lots of campers, but during the year it can be weird. Chiron said that soon they should be getting more younger campers during the year, that birth of demigods tends to work in cycles according to events on Olympus.

More people to try and make friends with sounds good to him.

…..

Okay he takes it back. Frey thought to himself. The Museum is huge and not as much fun when you can't see over anything to find your friends or one of your teachers.

He's going to catch so much hell for this from Grover. And that's before his Far and the rest of the camp find out. At least he has the better part of two months before his birthday, Heidi won't be so wound up from him getting lost after some time as past and she might not rat him out too badly to his Far. Might.

Looking around he spotted one of those "you are here" maps that every public place seemed to have. Heidi taught him about those the last time they needed to go shopping. She wanted something new to wear for Grim.

And Frey learned one of the best lessons of his life so far.

Never go shopping with a woman with _that_ look on their face. Never gain.

Finding his place on the map he traced one finger along it looking for one of the three places where Chiron said groups were to meet up.

_The Hall of Amphibians and Reptiles_.

Good, there's one.

Rushing through the corridors, he finally came to a quieter hall with bunches of glass display cases showing off different species. Spotting a fifteen-foot-long crocodile he grinned. Found it.

"Frey!" A voice shouted, the person hurrying over as fast as he can with the crutches he has to use outside of camp.

"Grover!" Frey waved, smiling. "I think I spent to long in the Planetarium and the others didn't even notice I wasn't still with them."

Grover smiled and tapped his young friend on the back of the head.

"That's what you get for having your head in the clouds." He teased. "I was worried when I saw your Apollo buddies without you. They were too, no one wants to take on your patron you know."

Frey rolled his eyes. Everyone was sooo scared of Grim or "Lord Thanatos" as everyone else calls him. When a god saves you from living a miserable – and horrifically short – life there's not much to be scared of.

Before he could tease the older satyr over what to him is a silly fear, a faint hissing caught his ear, accompanied by the sound of scales scraping on tile.

"You hear that?" Grover asked as he started backing them towards the exit, noticing for the first time the lack of normal mortals in the exhibition hall.

Eyes darting around the room, searching the shadows for danger, Frey gave a short nod as he pulled a dagger with a gleaming black blade from its sheath in the small of his back. Adrenaline and no small amount of irritation were coursing through his lanky prepubescent body.

"You know." He observed idly to Grover as the satyr took out a club from his pack. "This really sucks. And whatever is coming is pissing me off."

"What?" Grover chuckled incredulously. Leave it to "Death's munchkin" as the Hermes campers dubbed Frey to get pissy over a looming monster attack.

"Seriously." Frey's voice was hardening as the creature began creeping from the shadows. "You know how long and how hard I had to lobby Heidi to get to come on this trip? And that was after I got tentative approval from my Far and Grim. After a dumbass monster decides to take me on on my first trip off-camp I'm _never_ going to be able to leave again. I'm nine. I need to be free to explore and see things besides camp. And this _bastard_ is ruining it!"

A hissy chuckle sounded as the monster stepped firmly into the light, causing the two much-smaller forms to cringe. Scaly with a thick body and three elongated triangular heads, it looked like some kinda of giant Komodo dragon. Which really sucked because a Komodo dragon's jaws could crack bone and their bacterial-cesspit-mouths were the closest thing to a deadly poison you could get without actually having venom glands.

"Grover?" Frey asked, horrified at what he was seeing. "What the heck is _that_?"

"_That_," Grover said after taking a deep breath, trying to control his utter terror. "Is one of the three-headed hydras."

Frey blinked.

"Like Heracles's hydra?"

"Nope. This is one of that hydra's many, many offspring. Looks like this time the King Hydra got busy with a komodo dragon."

"Oh, goody." Frey said his voice faint as the monster crept closer and closer. "How do I kill it?"

"Hydra, hydra, hydra." Grover thought furiously. He knows this, he knows he does, but he's never functioned well under pressure.

"Anytime now Grover." Frey yelped as he dodged to the side to avoid a strike from one of the heads as it hissed again. Only this time Frey _understood_ what it was saying.

_§Heroes. Silly little heroes to leave your nest. Yes. Silly little heroes. Komo eats silly heroes. Been sooo long since Komo was lassst free.§_

"Grover." Frey's voice was pure warning as he and the satyr darted all around the exhibition hall to avoid the monster's strikes. "It wants us for lunch. How do I _kill it?"_

"Hydra. Hydras' heads grow back in sets of three." Grover grunted out as he dove behind a display of crocodile remains from the iron age. "You either have to hit the heart or cut off the heads and cauterize the wound at the same time."

"Fantastic." Frey hissed as he used his smaller and more agile body to dart under the massive _thing._ "Grover, I want you to go for the door and get Chiron, _hells_ get anyone. I don't think I can take out this thing on my own. I'll distract it."

"_Freyyy_." Grover whined. "You're only nine. That's not a good idea."

"You got a better one?" The demigod demanded while dancing to and fro under the beast. "There's tons of innocent bystanders that are going to be Purina-Hydra-Chow if we don't kill this thing. Get _moving_."

"You're the hero-in-training." Grover sighed as he skidded to a stop at the doors. Turning to look back he stared at the sight of the tiny child dancing around the monster like he was playing a game of hopscotch. "Pan's blessing be upon you, Frey Haraldr." He whispered before darting out the door, hoping that there would still be something left save by the time he found someone to help. Thanatos is going to kill him. Dead. Grover is soo dead.

Panting slightly in exertion as he forced his little body to dart and weave around the hydra's legs while keeping out of striking range of the three heads, Frey thought quickly. He can't use his magic. That's a no-go. Even with the Mist, wizards can still pick up on his magic use when he's outside of the camp's wards. That leaves him with the gifts from his Far and Grim.

_The heart._ A voice that sounded soft and sweet, like the one that he hears in his dreams sometimes, whispered through his mind. _Pierce the heart. Center of the chest under the left-most head._

Okay then. He'll take Advice-from-the-Ether for Two-Thousand, Alex. Here's hoping he's still alive for his Far to punish after this. Focusing on the power he got from his Far instead of from his other parents, Frey summoned his last birthday gift from his Far to his hand, the adolescent-sized sword modeled after his Potter house only with a shining black blade of Stygian steel instead of Mithril and a great ruby with the Potter sigil carved in it on the pommel coming instantly to his hand. Pouring on the speed, he pretended he was running the gauntlet with the Ares campers or racing against Chiron in his normal form, racing for the display case opposite the hydra.

_§What are you doing, silly hero? Come back so Komo can eat you.§_ The hydra – Komo – darted his right head out after the fleeing form.

Jumping up and pushing off with one foot against the bullet-proof glass, Frey twisted in mid-air in a move his Far had spent the better part of their last visit teaching him. Blades angled down, his sword sliced through the center and left heads like butter, buying him precious time as the right head course corrected and darted towards him.

To no avail.

Frey landed bang-on target, his sword slowing his descent down the monster's chest as he thrust his dagger home in the creature's heart as the center and left heads started to reform. The creature crumpled to the ground, almost squashing the boy under it as the doors banged open, revealing a panting Grover and an implacable Chiron as Frey wriggled his way out from under his first kill.

Giving the youngling a short, approving nod, Chiron spoke.

"Don't think that because you won we're not going to revisit proper techniques for monster-slaying, young Frey." The trainer's voice was dryer than the Sahara. "Or that I won't be telling your patron that you sent off the older and more experienced guide while you stayed behind."

"Yes, sir." Frey said, voice small.

"That being said." Chiron waved one hand towards the carcass as he arched a brow. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Frey frowned for a second before grinning. He couldn't be blamed for forgetting for awhile...this is the first time he's face a monster on his own, although he's seen it done before when monsters would attack camp in the summer.

"I, Frey Haraldr, ward of Thanatos, offer this sacrifice as tribute to my divine parent."

Chiron nodded, pleased. Something tells him that young Frey knows exactly who his divine parent is and is only hedging because of his audience. Either way it was well done of him to offer the hydra to his parent instead of his guardian.

As Frey finished speaking, a golden shimmer surrounded the slain monster before it vanished, leaving only something small and inky black in its place.

"What's that?" Grover asked as he and Chiron made their way over to the now-crouching Frey, cocking his head to try and get a better look at the bundle which turned out to be something wrapped in black cloth.

Frey looked up at them with a grin as he held up the gift. He'd heard of kids getting gifts from their godly parents when they've done or offered up something particularly pleasing but didn't think he'd ever get something like that since he was closer to his Far than most demigods were with their diving parents. Now he's gotten a battle spoil too.

"It's a hydra-skin sheath," Frey grinned. "For my dagger."

...

"And what have we learned about adventuring with Grover?" Chiron arched a brow at the now ten-year-old Frey as he continued prepping the boy-would-be-warrior for his second trip out of camp...and his first real mission.

He's come along way in the last year and a half from his first venture out into the real world. Killing the hydra was more dumb-luck and sheer foolhardy bravado than any actual skill, something he's worked hard to correct in the youngling. The reaction of Thanatos wasn't what the centaur had expected either, the ancient being simply laughing at the "minor scuffle" and reporting that the lad's divine-father and his father's brothers had gotten into much worse at Frey's age. Chiron hesitated to ask just what "worse" could be.

Something tells him he doesn't truly want to know.

"Whatever can go wrong, will." Frey answered partly serious and partly cheeky.

Chiron held in a snort. Murphy's Law could be renamed "Grover's Law" as far as the Cloven Council was concerned. He spent almost as much time trying to keep them from firing Grover from being a guide as he does keeping Frey from getting into fights with the satyr elders who offend the youngling's sense of fair play.

"Young Grover was sent out to guide a trio of demigods to Camp Half-Blood days ago and hasn't returned. The last we heard from him he was running from a warehouse in Brooklyn." Chiron said, voice turning serious as he pinned Frey with his gaze. "You're the best trained fighter we have healthy right now." Which was true, most of the older year-rounders were down with some form of flu that Frey didn't seem to be affected by thanks to his Wizarding heritage. "Your job is to find Grover and his charges and get them to Camp. Frey."

Bright green eyes looked up at him, his youthfully round face on display with a stoic expression, his wild back-length hair held back in the Norse warrior-braids he favored.

"One of the demigods is the daughter of Zeus."

Frey's eyes widened comically as he sucked in a breath.

"The compact...?"

Chiron nodded.

"Zeus broke it. Hades is furious and has unleashed his servants on the young girl. They have to get to camp, Frey."

His young charge nodded firmly before listening with care as Chiron described the group's last-known location, a mere ten miles away, before stepping into the shadows as Grim had taught him and shifting himself to the given location.

Among Artemis's huntresses.

…..

"He'll only disappoint you." Zoe was saying spitefully as Frey stepped out from the shadows, making the young godling roll his eyes. The huntresses don't visit often – thankfully – but when they do it takes weeks for the guys at camp to stop being cranky and the satyrs to stop acting weird. Frey didn't see the big deal. So they don't like guys.

Big deal.

He doesn't like pizza despite Grover's best efforts but you don't see him complaining about pizza to everyone he meets or yelling at people because _they_ like pizza.

Heidi says that the huntresses are what you get when a bunch of bitter teen-aged drama-queens gain immortality.

That doesn't really give Frey hope for when he finally gets to go to Asgard.

"Brzztsssp." Frey blew a raspberry at the leader of the huntresses when Artemis wasn't around, drawing the attention of both groups.

"Argh." Zoe growled rolling her eyes. "Go away little boy."

"No problem ice-princess." Frey grinned brightly. "As soon as Grover and Co. are ready to go."

"Frey, my man." Grover trotted over to his buddy's side. "Chiron sent you?"

Frey nodded as he got a good look at Grover's newest charges. Not a bad group, a couple even had weapons with the girl who must be Zeus's kid fiddling with one of Hephaestus's shield-watches.

"Seriously?" Thalia couldn't believe it. First the "ice-princess" tries to get her to abandon her friends and now this...little kid came to help them? This is their back-up? "You're just a little boy."

Rolling his eyes, Frey unsheathed his sword, the same one he used to cut off two of Komo's heads. With a pointed look at mini-Zeus's leg, he spoke up as the huntresses started heading off.

"I'm in better shape than you are _and_ I don't have Hades's minions out for my blood." He motioned in the direction of camp with his sword. "There's a whole lot of hellhounds between here and safety, Ms. Thing. Plus all three of the Furies. If you want your boyfriend and the little one to make it to the boundary in one piece, you're going to need my help."

Narrowing his eyes at the little-dude with a big attitude, Luke took in the easy grip on the sword and the calm demeanor. There was more to this kid than met the eye. And he was right about the monsters, that's for sure.

"But..."

"Lead the way." Luke cut off Thalia with a look. "Another sword is always useful."

Frey nodded, accepting that they'll take his help.

"Can she run?" He asked him.

Thalia grimaced both at being ignored and at her wound.

"Not very well and not for very long." She admitted.

Reaching around Frey grabbed one of the potions Heidi had been drilling him on, having him make large batches of it over and over until he'd memorized it. It was one of the easier but still effective healing potions, always a good thing for a hero-training-camp to have on hand. Tossing it to the girl he shook his head at her suspicious look after she caught it.

"Drink it or don't. I don't really care." He said with a shrug. "It won't heal you but it will help get you to camp. Your call."

With a pissy look on her face Thalia knocked it back, gagging on the rancid taste as Frey chivvied them into motion.

Five miles has never been longer to the boy than it was right now, with a little girl and an older one wounded and a ton of monsters between here-and-there.

…..

"Run Annabeth!" Thalia screamed as she fought off another hellhound. "The arch is right there!"

It'd been a hard five miles, just as hard as Frey thought it would be. It was a small but mixed blessing that the monsters were focusing all their energy on Zeus's daughter, Thalia he'd learned. It freed him up for doing damage and helping the little girl Annabeth but was seriously impacting his ability to save Thalia's arse.

Or his own for that matter.

"Luke!" He shouted as he gutted another hound. "Grab Annabeth and get across the boundary!"

Not looking to see if the older boy would listen or not, Frey got back to his original mission: getting Thalia to camp. Slipping one arm around her waist – and thankful that she hasn't gotten her grown spurt yet – Frey helped prop her up as he switched his sword into his off-hand. Together they hobbled towards the wards, her using her shield, Aegis, while he sliced and diced his way through the monsters. They were within feet when they heard a shrill scream.

Quickly scanning, Frey noted Grover and Luke over the wards with Luke hanging onto Annabeth with one hand. The little girl was in the grasp of a Fury and struggling to get loose and through the wards. Thalia reacted just as Frey went to pull them inside the wards.

"Hey! Ugly!" She shouted, throwing her shield like a discus and nearly decapitating the Fury who released her hold on her prize.

Pulling Luke toppled backwards at the sudden release, leaving Annabeth safely withing the wards.

And Thalia shield-less and on the wrong side of them.

In a rare show of intelligence, a hellhound leaped forward, fangs ripping into Thalia's now-unprotected side as Frey hauled her to safety, his sword slashing down and taking the beast's head.

But it was too late.

Frey stared down at the wounded and dying girl in his arms as her friends rushed over, crying as she struggled to breath. He held back his own tears as he looked up at Grover, the satyr staring down at him in gentle understanding.

"It's a rough lesson." Grover said as he squatted next to the dying girl. "But it's one that every guide and hero learns. I just wish you didn't have to learn it so soon."

"Wha...," Frey coughed back his tears. He didn't even really _like_ Thalia. Hells he didn't even _know_ her. Not outside of what she did to save Annabeth. "What's that?"

"That no matter how good you are, how strong or smart or fast." Grover tucked a piece of Thalia's hair behind her ear, speaking lowly to avoid catching the attention of the girl's mourning friends. "Or how powerful you or your dad is, there's always going to be someone you can't save. All you can hope for is that that person isn't yourself, so that you can go on fighting and trying to save the next person and the person after that and the person after that."

Frey snuffled back his sobs.

"That's a shitty lesson, Grover." He said, fire returning to his eyes as he stared at the remains of all the monsters. "And I don't feel like learning it. Not today."

Standing he traded his sword for his dagger, the same one he slew the hydra with, and sliced open his hand, invoking an ancient rite as Chiron and the other campers rushed over to them.

"I, Frey Haraldr, offer up this offering of mine own blood and tribute of every beast I slew this day, to Zeus, King of Olympus. That He might find love in his heart for his blood-child, Thalia Grace, and spare her Hades's fire."

As the last drop of his blood hit Thalia's ruined shirt, thunder crashed over head causing all present to look up at the heavens.

All but Frey, who was forced to shut his eyes as Thalia was struck by her father's lightening. When he opened them, where a dying girl once stood was now a tall, strong pine tree with a lightening bolt carved into the bark.

"Is she?" Annabeth cried into Luke's jacket. "Is she...?"

Grover put one hand on the tree, listening hard. A smile split his face as he turned to look at his young friend.

"She's alive." He said, wonder in his voice. "He listened to you, Frey. He saved her. She's a tree...but she's alive."

...

Loki stepped from the shadows into his son's home inside the wards of Camp Half-Blood and crept silently over to the form cuddled up in the middle of the massive king-sized bed. He could barely catch sight of his son amidst the black spider-silk sheets and the myriad furs that were gifts from Thanatos from his many travels. The Greek had taken his duty to Frey seriously these past ten years, more seriously than Loki had ever thought to hope, and his Harvestmaidens had taken excellent care of him when neither of them could.

He could say much the same of the centaur. He'd long respected their abilities to read the stars but many of their kind tended towards extremes, bouncing between utter disarray like the "Party Ponies" or complete stoicism like the herd that lives in the Forbidden Forest. There were few and far between that struck a balance between the two, Chiron and Firenze between two among a handful that Loki could bring to mind. The hero trainer had done well by Frey, very well if his performance against the hellhounds from the previous winter was any indication. He'd relied far less on blind luck and much more on his skill – hammered into him by both the camp trainers, the Harvestmaidens, and Thanatos and Loki themselves – to surprising results.

And that was before he took into account his actions to save Zeus's daughter. That was a heavy debt the Olympian leader owed, one that won't be easily balanced.

Yes, they've all done well with him and he's begun turning into the warrior prince that Loki always saw within him.

But soon he would have to go away and finish training that other part of himself, the part of him that itched and yearned to break free.

On the night Thanatos spirited Loki's son from underneath Dumbledore's nose, he'd sensed something sinister afoot. Something more than the soul-fragment that was trying to bond to his son. Time and observation had proved Loki's observation true.

Frey's magics had been bound.

Most often done when a child is in danger of catastrophic accidental magic, binding their magic lets their bodies grow stronger to be better able to contain and channel the raw forces at their disposal.

Except Frey, from what Loki had spied out when clandestinely keeping an eye on his son and his mortal parents, had no problems controlling his magic. The opposite actually. Frey's control was innate, near perfect, even at a few months after birth. A thought proven when while watching Sirius gambol about the room as a big black dog, Frey spontaneously shifted into the form of a cat. A cat that later turned out to be a jaguar kitten, rather than a full-grown house cat. Such transformation required exquisite control.

It boggled the mind that someone would bind the powers of such a talented child.

And it had the magical finger-prints of Albus Dumbledore all over it.

Perhaps the Headmaster was threatened by his son's early signs of power. Perhaps he didn't want the child to perform accidental magic in the abusive muggle cesspit he tried to dump him in. Perhaps there was another reason behind it.

There really wasn't anyway to know.

It simply left Loki with a conundrum. Frey would be perfectly capable of performing magic to the same standard as other children close to his age with his core still bound. Which is an option if they don't want Dumbledore to become even more suspicious than he already will be over Frey's guardianship.

Or...

Loki could undo the binding, releasing the full measure of Frey's power which was operating at about ten percent of his whole as things stand. If he'd been left alone, he'd have about half of his total current magical core strength. Apparently when his core was bound he still was trying to perform magics supposedly beyond his age and his core grew to compensate for it. Growing so that if all he could draw on was ten percent, it would be ten percent of a more powerful whole.

But if Loki undid the binding he would have to spend all the rest of the summer with his son and hoping that no one on Asgard would notice. Even then they would still need to use Chiron's gift to gain extra time. Frey would just be too powerful to unleash on the world without Loki being damn sure of his control being sufficient.

Plus there were still what his son had taken to calling "Princely Primer Programs" to get through, his training for Asgard and Wizarding society.

Staring down at his son Loki smiled when the boy snuffled and turned over in his sleep, showing his strong features that even at one-day-off-eleven were beginning to hint at the handsome man he would be. His face was thinning out, not as round as it used to be, with hints of Loki's own sharp cheekbones and piercing eyes. The rest of him was all Lily, generous mouth, elegant nose and chin, smooth forehead. Only the firm jawline showed any hint of James, the one remnant of his minuscule amount of Potter blood.

It was there in his body too. Tall for his age at five-three, he was strong with it at a firm one hundred and ten pounds with no sign of extra fat on him. Daily weapons practice, running with Chiron, and flying on the pterippi gave him strong, lean muscles with none of the brutish bulk of his uncle Thor as a child.

Frey Haraldr Lokison was a child and heir any man – or god – would be proud to claim.

Only Loki couldn't claim him.

He wouldn't be able to until Frey reached his physical peak and "froze" into his immortality in the way of godlings. His son and one joy was still all-too vulnerable until that day, likely more than a decade off. It was unbearable, this infernal waiting.

But for this summer at least, if Frey agreed, they could be together.

He'd arranged things neatly with Thor and Sif, created a cover story about him being off on a knowledge-seeking hunt. Granted _they_ don't know it's only a story. But it would work and that's what counts.

By the end of summer, Frigga willing, his son would be as ready and powerful as Loki can make him. Using Chiron's gift to the max would give them roughly three years in the space of just over a month. A month a day for thirty-odd days. It would have to do.

Frey already had the mind of a child much older between Chiron's gift usage and his run-ins with monsters and battling hellhounds to save a demigoddess.

That was the way of it sometimes with Asgardian children. They rarely stay children for long, especially if they're born into the nobility like himself and his son. It wasn't a pretty fact of life but it was real.

His son couldn't afford to stay as a child not anymore, not with them still going in blind as far as much of the Wizarding world was concerned.

Not the least of the challenges would be getting his son to answer to Harry again, let alone what it's going to be like for a fifteen-year-old's brain to be stuck in an eleven-year-old's body...even if that body was mature for its age.

"Far?" Frey asked sleepily as his eyes cracked open. "It's not my birthday yet, that's tomorrow."

"I know, little prince." Loki felt a pang over the favored nickname that wouldn't apply very well by the end of summer. "I came early to talk to you, there's many things we need to discuss..."


	5. Chapter 3

Author's Note: I feel I should mention that in this story Harry, or rather Frey, will go through a wand a year. The reason behind this is simple, because of how I've framed the story around Death's relationship with the Peverells and Frey being the last of the line, the only wand that will truly accept him as a master is the Elder Wand or Deathstick from the Hallows lore. Because of that there will be a little scene either where I show him and Loki and/or Chiron fashioning his newest wand or he will think about it sometime during the first part of that chapter. For more information on the different wand woods that I use for Frey's wands, go to Pottermore which has J.K. Rowlings' information on wandlore.

Oh! And my Frey/Harry is played by Ben Barnes...with AK green eyes of course :)

For Frey's warrior braids: think (and yes, I know she's a girl...but the braids are awesome) Daneryes Targaryan's khaleesi braids from Game of Thrones...

Thanks for the reviews! They feed the muse!

~Sif

Chapter Three

…..

Heidi held tight to Frey's arm, the godling showing his gentlemanly side had offered it to her and waited for her acceptance before he side-along apparated her to the Apparation point on Platform 9 ¾. This was done for a reason, allowing those who were present at the platform to assume that the bronze-haired beauty was the one apparating her young charge instead of simply shadow-stepping like the Harvestmaiden preferred. They could've made it work if she'd insisted, the woman being no fan of the squeezed-tube effect of apparating, but in the end Chiron voted against it, the risks of being discovered doing something so blatantly non-Wizarding too great in the condensed atmosphere of Kings Cross Station.

Unlike when she visited Diagon Alley to collect her charge's school things, list of supplies and Frey's current measurements well in had along with the key to his trust vault at Gringotts.

The latter of which shopkeepers were more than happy to charge in lieu of galleons-in-hand when they heard the name on the vault...for a small fee of course on the Gringotts end. One percent was a negligible price to pay to avoid the questions that might be asked by the Goblins over having a Harvestmaiden shopping for one of their most prestigious customers and long-standing accounts. The greedy little bastards were much more vigilant and discerning about suck things than the wizards and witches that surround them.

She had to admit, she had fun doing Frey's school shopping while he was busy with his Father.

It was the first time she was really allowed to do such a thing for the young master, her Lord and the youngling's Father usually supplied all his needs before they even appeared as needs. The two of them took excellent care of the boy in her charge. Though Heidi admits to a nearly overwhelming curiosity regarding the identity of Frey's Father.

There were hints of course, tells that someone, like her, who spends an inordinate amount of time around Frey might pick up. But they were just that: hints. Shadows of rumors and supposition, hardly anything concrete.

But that was the province of the gods and the little hero-in-training to sort out and in the end none of her affair.

That however, doesn't stop her heart from pulling a little bit at the thought of her charge being gone from September through the end of June. Nor does it settle the twinges she feels at knowing that in a few short years, he would be grown and would no longer need her care and guidance at all.

She will enjoy the company of her Lord, of course. And that of her sister Harvestmaidens and the shadow warriors that serve Lord Thanatos.

But she'll still miss her little Frey.

Her god-in-waiting.

And what a glorious day that will be, that of Frey's ascension to the pantheon of his birth. She hopes that she'll be there to see it, the true fruit of her labors. Proof that all that has been done and that still needs doing wasn't in vain.

A wonderful day.

Until then she still has shopping to tide her over and the wizarding shopping district was a hoot...literally.

She purchased the finest of everything for her charge, only the best will do. Fine cotton and thick woolen robes for the various season, including a set of emerald green silk formal robes so that he would be prepared if he gets invited to a holiday ball or some-such event. Inky-black dragonhide leather trousers – shed skin rather than harvested, Frey would have her head if she bought the other. A warrior to the core even at eleven, he disliked taking the spoils of another's kill. Books of course, but she picked up a few extra that would help him along on dueling, magical beasts, runes, arithmancy, divination, and warding and combat-magics. All subjects he's at least had exposure to but not been thoroughly drilled on like he has charms, transfiguration, potions, and magical plants.

Chiron had walked him through potion-making starting from when he was first old enough to stand on a chair and stir a cauldron, the art going back well into history and one that the hero trainer still enjoyed to this day. It helped that healing salves and potions could prevent the need for demigods to become dependent on nectar and ambrosia for healing. It wasn't unheard of for the more battle-happy demigods and goddess to become addicted to the powerful substances.

Whoever his father is, he'd drilled Frey quite relentlessly on charms, transfiguration, and defensive and combat-magic, even adding it to Heidi's list of the many, many subjects Frey needed to learn.

Visiting the apothecary was an adventure for the former-nurse, having been steered towards one in Grey Alley, just off of the main shopping district but not so disreputable as Knockturn Alley, by a very helpful – and nearly drooling – clerk in the cauldron-maker's shop who'd sold her the finest of pewter cauldrons and potion-prep tools including a variety of knives, mortars and pestals, and stirring rods made out of many different metals and materials that boggled her mind but that she knew Frey was pleased by. Inside the aromatic store, she'd been cautioned to purchase everything separately rather than just buying one of the stock "Year 1" potions kits. A caution she'd passed onto her charge.

Apparently, only a few parents or students took the time to select the best ingredients, a practice that led to them gaining higher scores in their potions class. Unless they were alumni or current students of one of the school's houses called "Slytherin House". Either the Potions Master was biased or he simply enjoyed marking down students due to their own laziness...or both.

For a trunk she selected the finest model they had that was still school-appropriate. She'd not be supplying her young, impressionable, prepubescent charge with a ready-made bedroom or Lord Thanatos forbid, a full apartment. _Thank-you-very-much_. But one covered in black leather – again dragonhide – with silver fittings and her charges Wizarding initials: HJP, in silver leaf...that was acceptable. It had all the best charms: featherlight, expansion, security based around Frey's blood (which they added to the lock once she arrived back at camp), an automatic shrinking/unshrinking charm with a tap of a wand, wheels and a handle that popped out with another wand tap on another trigger, and five separate compartments that revealed themselves on a turn of a key and a different password for each compartment.

She appreciated the wardrobe compartment herself, one wave of Frey's wand and his clothes tidily arranged themselves. No worries about her youngling looking unkempt. Frey, being male and therefore having very different priorities, was a fan of the weapon's compartment. Especially since it was one of the compartments that was charmed against any and all magical detection by his Father. The magical luggage also had a standard compartment for his school odds-and-ends with another expansion charm, and two library compartments. One where Frey'd arranged his school-appropriate books, including a few that Chiron had given him when he'd started him on brewing that were rare but wouldn't raise any flags. The other was the second compartment charmed by Frey's Father containing all the eyebrow raising books: curses, advanced subject matter in all school subjects as well as combat-magics and warding, and his family history and magic books and grimoires.

The silver dragonhide school-bag with the featherlight and expansion charms with a hidden weapons sheath was another winner.

Much like her only purchase in Olivander's wand shop: a frightfully-expensive basilisk-hide wand holster with undetectable, impervious, and anti-summoning charms.

She may be nearly a century old former-muggle Harvestmaiden...but she knew what Frey likes.

Like what she picked up after getting a telescope and star charts and other odds-and-ends: Frey's pet, a gorgeous pure-white snowy owl with just the barest hint of black on her wing tips.

Frey promptly hugged the life out of her and named the owl Hedwig.

Sighing, she stared wistfully down at her charge as he just about danced in place. He was so excited to start the next chapter of his life.

But he would be so far away. Both from her side and her protection. As a Harvestmaiden Heidi was no pushover.

He was growing and soon he would be gone.

Smiling for him as he pulled away and checked to make sure he had everything before saying goodbye, she tugged him into a quick hug, brushing one gentle hand down his clubbed-back hair. He looked like a proper pure-blood prince, not a warrior's braid in sight in his dragonhide trousers and boots, a simple fine-cotton shirt in startling white already showing signs of stretching across his broad shoulders. Giving him a quick kiss to his brow, just over the faint silvery-scar, she saw him off, waving like every other parent and guardian on the platform.

She would miss her sweet, fierce boy.

…..

Frey smiled and waved out the window of the Hogwarts Express from the empty compartment he'd found in the back of the train. He'd miss his caretaker. Heidi'd morphed from nanny to teacher to friend over the last ten years. He'd miss her.

Fingering the wand-holster he gave a soft smile. But she'd made sure he would think of her while he was gone. He might not be able to see her like he would Grim on All Hallows, nor his Far either, Loki's magic being far-too-powerful to risk his shielding failing while withing the halls of the school, but she would still be with him nonetheless.

Like his other-parents, whose memories have never faded.

Pushing his sleeve back he stared skeptically at the wand at his arm. His Far and Thanatos had already warned him about regulating his power and being sure not to push too much through it. He'd made it with guidance from one of the elder-satyrs who used to train wizards in wand-lore before they forgot about cloven-kind.

Ebony and a heartstring from the hydra he slew two years ago. The first a gift from one of the dryads, the second kept by his Far for this day. Quite resilient and an even eleven inches long. It would do...for awhile.

Grim, as his Lord Thanatos persona that He rarely uses around Frey, told him that as the last Peverell the Elder Wand of legend was his. His to find, his to win, and his to Master.

None other would suit him so well.

A shocking revelation, even for his sixteen-year-old mind in it's eleven-year-old housing to fathom. Demigods might mature faster and then spending a total of three years compressed in a couple of months did a lot to help him grasp a lot of the things his Far and the others have been trying to teach him...but when it comes to things dropping in his lap like being told that one of the most famous wands of all time was _his_...times like that he still feels like an eleven-year-old kid trying to step into his Far's shoes.

But that wasn't as bad as some of the other things his Far and his guardians told him this summer.

Unbinding his powers sucked. There's just no other way to put it. It sucked. Suddenly he was blowing things up every-flipping-time he tried to do a spell. Plus there was the pain of it. Frey's taken wounds in battles against other heroes-in-training, from his instructors during his own training, and of course in monster battles...but still having his powers unbound was the worst pain he's ever known.

Then there was that other thing.

The staying-under-the-radar thing.

One point which everyone agreed with was trying to keep Frey off of Dumbledore's watch-list as much as possible. Nobody had managed to figure out what the old man's angle with interfering with Frey was and until they had an idea Frey wasn't to rock the boat. As much as possible for Frey anyway.

Which really blew because that meant he couldn't help his Uncle Siri who Heidi found out on her trip to Diagon Alley was being held in Azkaban prison. For apparently "betraying" his parents. Which Loki knew full-well he didn't do. Oh. And for killing the real traitor (which no lie, he very well could've done) and a dozen muggles.

And.

There was nothing. Frey. Could. Do about it.

It was _infuriating_.

And enough to make him want to shit-start with Dumbledore just on principle.

Send his godfather to prison? Eat-shit-and-die.

So there.

Plus! Plus! Uncle Moony was freaking _impossible_ to find. Frey didn't have many memories from when he was with his other parents but Uncle Siri and Uncle Moony were two of the good ones. That they were followers of his Far in spirit if not in practice was just a bonus.

Grrrr.

He didn't even care about Heidi dictating his clothes: they were a little posh for his preferred every-day wear and the robes were a little cumbersome but nothing he couldn't work with. He could always wear his own clothes on the weekends according to his rule book. But making him club-back his hair instead of braiding it the way he likes was just adding insult to injury on top of everything else.

Stupid Wizarding school was more trouble than it's worth. Although he can't deny his need of it. He might've been able to get away with not going if not for his Far unbinding his powers. After that it became down-right dangerous for others to be around him until his got them under control. Which he does now for the most part but that was mostly just that. Control. Outside the little his Far and the others had taught him and his natural skills with fire, ice, and his animagus transformation, there wasn't much he knew about _using_ all that lovely power that had been locked away inside of him.

His fire-whip (made from actual fire and not requiring his wand at all) was a thing of beauty. Deadly. But a beauty.

Would've seriously come in handy against that freaking hydra.

The sound of feet moving in his direction from further up the train had him sighing and looking ruefully at his pretty Hedwig in her cage before moving to take a book (basic dueling) from his trunk and sitting sedately on one of the benches, his wand covered by his sleeve once again and his dagger with its hydra sheath firmly covered and disillusioned at the small of his back.

"Well girl." He said with a roll of his eye. For all that sometimes he feels eleven and confused, mentally he really was older. "Time for the playacting to begin. Ready?"

Hedwig gave a soft hoot as she ruffled her feathers into place as the door rattled and Frey released the locking charm he had on it to give himself time to adjust into what would be his role for the next nine months.

"Idealistic boy-hero, take one, action." He mumbled under his breath with a roll of his eyes as a bushy-haired brunette girl tumbled into his carriage along with a somewhat-chubby boy.

This was going to be a long school year.

…..

Long. Long was an understatement, Frey thought to himself as he restrained the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose or rub his temples to help ward off the headache brewing behind his eyes.

This girl is an encyclopedia.

But not in a fun way like a lot of the Athena campers back home. No. In the know-it-all-bookworm way that takes everything written between the covers of a book as pure gospel.

Even to the point of regaling him with everything that she's ever read about him. Him for Loki's sake! You'd think she'd be smart enough to know that if anyone would be an expert on The-Boy-Who-Lived, and isn't that a stupid moniker, it would _be_ him.

Nope.

Apparently _she's_ an expert in, well, _him_.

Joy.

"Hermione." He'd finally reached his wit' end with her babbling. "You've just spewed so many so-called facts at me I can barely keep them straight. I'll take them in reverse order."

His tone was firm and no-nonsense, cutting her off without regard when she started to splutter. Her companion, Neville, someone he needed to get to know without the tag-along, simply watched the dynamics unfold as he shifted nervously from foot-to-foot. Frey had definitely gotten the better hand dealt to him when it came to guardians than his godbrother. The kid's a panicky-wreck of an eleven-year-old.

"One." He started counting off. "No, I don't know what house I'm going to be in. Personally, I think choosing a house based on what other people think or because a so-called great or awful wizard came from that house is idiocy. You should go into the house that suits your personality and goals the best. You _clearly_ belong in Ravenclaw. Gryffindor would eat you alive within a month. They're the house of the brave and courageous, not of the ridiculously smart and bookwormish. Two."

He raised his voice slightly to continue cutting her off.

"Neville would probably do well in Gryffindor. Both of his parents were Gryffindor and much of the time base traits like bravery and intelligence run in families. Plus I think it was pretty brave of him to barge into my compartment to find his missing toad. He cared more about his familiar than he did about what I would think."

Neville blushed beet-red at the praise from the more mature-sounding and looking boy. Praise from The-Boy-Who-Lived. He stood a little straighter and raised his head from its downtrodden slump. Harry was right, that was pretty brave of him.

Frey smiled at the instant change in the other boy. Maybe working on Neville wouldn't be such a chore after all. They shared a bond through their mothers...even if Neville doesn't know it yet. And same physical age or not, he'd always done well with mentoring younger campers. Annabeth is already coming along great.

"Three." He held up another finger as he locked eyes with the visibly-fuming Ms. Granger. "None of those books were written with either my or my guardian's consent and none of those so-called authors or biographers have ever talked to me. And they certainly weren't there when my parents were murdered."

Those publishers were in for a rude awakening and an unpleasant lawsuit when Chiron's lawyers get a hold of them. He has Hades's Furies on retainer. Vicious when they're after a demigod but a better lawyer doesn't exist.

"Four, and the reason you came in." He arched a brow. She'd never even given him a chance to tell Neville if he'd seen his toad or not. "No, I haven't seen Neville's toad. _But_," he stressed the word as Neville started to look puny again. "If you go and find any of the prefects or one of the professors on board they can summon..."

He looked at Neville to fill in the blanks for him.

"Trevor." Neville said in a voice surprisingly deep for a young boy. "His name's Trevor."

"Trevor." Frey nodded sharply. "They can summon Trevor for you."

Considering the matter closed, he turned back to his book and tuned them out. Or attempted to at least.

"But..." Ms. Granger had managed to find her voice at last, mind spinning with everything the rude – to her mind, really he'd been rather contained – boy had said.

"Good _day_, Ms. Granger." Frey said firmly without looking up. "Neville."

The other boy turned back once Hermione was out of the compartment, meeting those bright green eyes with his own mellow brown.

"Y-yeah?"

"We should talk sometime, _without_ the audience." Frey gave him a crooked little grin over the top of the book, one mirrored by its recipient.

"Yeah, sure." Neville said before moving to catch Hermione. "Anytime, Potter."

"It's Harry, Neville."

"Harry."

…..

The rest of the ride went pretty smoothly. He'd only had to ignore and alienate one other boy – one remarkably more annoying than the Granger girl and with bright red hair – who'd been on the verge of spewing vitriol all over Frey when he was pulled from the compartment by his older twin brothers. Now _they_ were the others that his Far told him to be on the look out for. Fred and George Wesley had all the budding mischievous nature and talents that had brought his Dad and his Uncles Siri and Moony to his Far's attention all those years ago. The Weasley twins, if his Far was right and he usually was about things within his purview, were even well on the way to surpassing the Marauder legacy as the finest prankster and purveyors of mischief in Hogwarts's history.

Frey couldn't wait to meet them under better circumstances.

But the meeting he'd been waiting for happened a scant hour outside of Hogsmeade Station. Draco Malfoy, the Heir of the Noble House of Malfoy, had finally acted on the rumors of Harry Potter being on board the train and made his way to his compartment. House Malfoy was one of the few olde-houses left who still keep to their ancient traditions – and worship. Not even the mad reign of Tom Riddle over the late Abraxas Malfoy had broken them of honoring the gods.

While relatively new to England's shores, only going back five hundred years or so, the Malfoys could trace their lineage back a thousand more in their homeland of France. Back before the Church and homogenized religion to the olde-ways. At their roots the Malfoys were Celts and Gaels. And, as things worked back then, Norse.

One thing the Northmen excelled at was spreading far and wide from their homeland. Often in search of the next village to pillage and army to fight but also for trade and commerce. Norse men would take foreign wives and concubines and foreign men were enamored with the statuesque good-looks and golden hair of the northern shieldmaidens who would accompany the raiding and trading parties.

The Malfoys had such a shieldmaiden in their family history. More than one actually. And with those northern beauties came the iconic blonde hair and pale eyes and skin of the Malfoy line. Their religion came with them as well, blending seamlessly into the rites practiced by the Malfoy family. One god in particular gave His blessing over the family and the line, guaranteeing them an heir with every generation.

Loki Odinson.

It was just the sort of meddling that appealed to him, keeping a strong line of Wizards and their strong magics from dying out while gaining powerful worshipers. And all under his Father Odin's nose.

Fun fun fun.

That piece of patronage bumped Draco up to the top of Frey's get-to-know list. Possibly to the top of the maybe-friend list as well. It would depend on what sort of Wizard mini-Malfoy turned out to be.

The sound of voices in the corridor grew Frey's attention, a smirk crossing his face for a moment as he heard one young piping voice order a pair of slightly-lower voices to _stay_ rather firmly.

Mini-Malfoy already had minions and they hadn't even reached school yet.

A mellow knock on the compartment door had him calling out permission for entry. Whether he was a little snot or not, at least Malfoy had some manners, unlike the majority of the others on board the train. It'd proven one thing to Frey at least, in the Wizarding world he was very much considered public-property and considerations like personal privacy were waved in the face of his "status". Something else he was thankful Lord Thanatos saved him from.

And thankful to his Far, age-confusion aside, for making the decision to prematurely mentally age him. Dealing with all of this with an eleven-year-old's mind instead of the fifteen-to-sixteen year old one he currently has would've been a ruddy-nightmare.

"It's open," he called out softly after releasing the locks he'd placed on the doors. One too many pubescent visitors had him aching for some privacy to sort himself out.

The boy who walked in was both exactly what he expected and a complete surprise. Far told him that today's Malfoys were of the power-mad and blood-conscious sort. Frey'd been expecting pure arrogance and swaggering pride. And the blonde was proud, no doubt about it. But he was also graceful and fluid in his manner instead of swaggering and arrogant.

Secure.

That's what Draco Malfoy was.

He knew already his place in the world and didn't feel the need to ram it down people's throats. Well...not in front of Frey, not yet at least. He could see the other boy doing just that if he ran into the annoying Weasley.

Draco was a pure-blood prince and was secure in that safe box, not mature or rebellious enough yet to start bucking his father and branching out.

Frey chuckled a little to himself.

Maybe he could help that along. If the Malfoys do indeed still keep the Olde Ways...Frey would be remiss if he didn't plan some _mischief_ in honor of his Far.

Draco scrutinized the patiently-waiting boy carefully. This wasn't what he'd expected Harry Potter to look _or_ act like. Everyone knew that he'd been raised in seclusion, away from the Wizarding world. His father had instructed him to get close to the Boy-Who-Lived if at all possible. To learn about his power and how he defeated the Dark Lord.

But this...this didn't look like someone Draco could easily fool or manipulate.

His green eyes were piercing and calm, watchful. He was dressed in the finest of materials, even some that Draco'd never seen before while the styles reminded him of paintings of when the Malfoys were _Malfois _and battle-mages. Olde.

That's what he made Draco think of. The Olde Ways. From his hair to his manner to his dress and demeanor. Harry Potter, Scion of the Light, had been raised steeped in the Olde Ways.

How perfectly fascinating.

Especially since his father's been ranting for _years_ about the "barmy old fool" Dumbledore doing his best to obliterate the Olde Ways from Magical Britain.

Finally making a decision, Draco squared his shoulders and stuck out his hand.

"They told me you were here." He said simply. "My name's Draco Malfoy, Heir of the Noble and Ancient House of Malfoy. Pleased to make your acquaintance Lord Potter."

Frey flashed him a wry grin. The boldness was refreshing after hearing others gush. Taking the offered hand in a firm grip he replied.

"Harry James Potter, Heir of the Most Ancient and Noble Houses of Potter and Peverell. Technically I'm not a Lord yet."

Draco shook his hand and cocked his head to one side, confused for a moment.

"Not entirely." He shook his head as they let go, feeling unsure about both correcting the young Lord and needing to look up the second House he'd claimed as his. Peverell rang a bell but it was a distant one. He went on to explain. "You might not be able to sit on the Wizengamot or access the Family vaults but when you turned eleven you automatically became the Lord of any Houses that are yours by either blood or magic."

"Really?" He trailed off thinking hard. Things like this happening are why he'd been having such complex lessons for so long. And still there were things he didn't know from not growing up in Wizarding Britain. Stupid convoluted laws and rules. "I'd never heard that."

Draco shrugged, still not entirely comfortable with the situation.

"It's not really that well-known." He tried to make the other boy feel better about his lapse before a peer and fellow Heir. Thankfully this happened with Draco and not someone like Pansy Parkinson. She'd act all nice but then she'd ridicule and belittle the boy behind his back. "The last time there was a Young Lord was back in the 1400's I think."

"Well I don't feel like a total idiot then." Frey grinned, happy that he got an answering smile from the lithe blonde that became visibly more comfortable once he'd made it clear he wasn't offended over being corrected. "Thanks for the lesson, Draco. Can I call you Draco?"

"Only if I can call you Harry."

"Deal." They each gave a firm nod to seal the pact and Draco made himself at home on the seat opposite Harry.

"You should go to Gringotts and have them do a blood and magical inheritance test." Draco went on to advise. "That'll tell you all the titles you can claim and when and if they have any property or vaults attached."

"Sounds interesting," Frey said intrigued. "I'll do that." Heidi should be okay with taking a detour to Diagon Alley before leaving for their flight home for the summer. He'd just have to clear it with Chiron first. He gave a mental groan, hating that they'd have to use mundane travel to help keep Dumbledore and the Ministry off of their trail.

"So," Draco was kinda eager to change the subject to one less potentially-problematic. "Any idea about what house you want to be in?"

Frey shrugged.

"I'll probably be in Gryffindor like my parents." Plus that'd make it easier to hide in plain-sight. "Even though I'm probably better suited to Ravenclaw or even Slytherin."

"Why would you go to the house of the stupid and reckless if you'd get on better somewhere else? I'm going to be Slytherin just like my parents and all of their families." He boasted a little at the end, unable to help himself even in the face of a more-mature peer.

His companion gave a downright cunning grin.

"Easy." He said throwing Malfoy a bone. He wanted the kid to like him, especially since he wanted him renew his line for his Far. "Everyone expects their "hero" to be a Gryffindor. If I went to Slytherin, where I probably belong, I'd automatically be "Dark". If I went to Ravenclaw they'd be worried about me being a recluse or a bookworm and watch me to act out like my father and his friends. Hufflepuff doesn't even bear thinking about. But if I'm a Gryffindor..." He trailed off, testing to see if his potential friend could follow the thought to its conclusion.

Granted it might be a little much for an eleven-year-old.

"Everyone would see what they expect to see and ignore everything you did that contradicted it...as long as you do something inline with their expectations every once in a while." Draco frowned for a moment. "That means we probably can't be friends at school."

Frey shook his head, he already had a plan for that.

"No," he smiled. "We can still be friends. As long as I make it a point to be friends with at least one person from each house, no one will think anything of me having a "snake" as a friend too."

"All they'd see is a goody-goody Gryff without the normal pratty attitude." Draco grinned. Yeah, this boy may be Olde but he was a Slytherin through and through. "Now all you need to do is rig the sorting somehow."

Looking out the window and seeing how close they were to Hogsmeade Frey bid Draco goodbye, telling him he'd see him later.

Watching as the train rolled closer and closer to the ancient castle buried in the midst of Scotland, he took a deep breath.

It was time to put his Wizarding training to the test and see just how much of Loki's son he really was. His Far is a master of illusion and deception, even gaining the appellation of silver-tongue. Now it was Frey Lokison's turn to play a perfect Harry Potter. Even though that's not who he's been for the last ten years.

…..

Frey grinned and waved at the friendly half-giant that exclaimed over him before climbing into a boat with Draco and his bodyguards Crabbe and Goyle, keeping up his calmly interested expression all the way through the ride to the castle and being greeted by a stern woman named Professor McGonagall. From what his Far said she had a soft spot for pranksters like his other father. He hoped she still had it.

He got a childish kick out of how the ghosts steered clear of him when they popped by to scare the "firsties", something Draco watched with a calculating look on his angular face. The blonde aristocrat was already coming along nicely, especially since their little tete-a-tete on the train. Frey was mostly absorbed with scanning for those people his Far and guardians told him to either watch-for or be wary-of.

Draco, watch-for. Possible ally. Check.

Weasley twins, watch-for. Possible allies. Double check.

McGonagall, Flitwick, and Hagrid, friends/favorite teachers of his other-parents.

Then there were the others.

Dumbledore, of course, sitting at the head table and watching over everything with a twinkle masking his manipulative nature.

A few other students and teachers who according to his information still followed the Olde Ways.

But it was the last name on the list that his Far and Grim want an answer about just where his allegiances and ideals lay.

One Professor Severus Snape.

A curious mixture of an old pure-blood Scion and muggle upbringing, he is a marked Death Eater according to Grim and his mother's oldest friend according to Far. He was one of the biggest enigmas in the game Dumbledore'd set up when Voldemort rose to power. An enigma that was Frey's charge to unravel.

Frey gave a little grin when soon after the Sorting Hat finished its song a frustrated and frowning Ms. Granger sat and sat up on the stool, apparently arguing with the Hat for a good five-minutes. She must not have paid much attention to what Frey told her. Eventually the Hat shouted "Ravenclaw!" and the flushed girl stormed off to sit with her new house to lukewarm applause.

He gave a genuine smile and clapped louder than ever when Neville was sorted into Gryffindor, excited to hopefully get to know his godbrother better.

"Good luck, Draco." He whispered, buffeting the blonde's shoulder before the boy strutted confidently up to the Hat and was rapidly sorted into Slytherin.

Two more people between him and the Hat. He rolled his head on his neck and clamped down his mental shields. No one is sure what information the Hat passes onto the Heads of House or the Headmaster and he's not about to screw himself over by being reckless.

Finally it was time.

"Harald James Potter!" Professor McGonagall called out, the din in the Great Hall rising in a rapid frenzy before falling into a hush. Everyone wanted to see where the Boy-Who-Lived would be sorted. What sort was he?

Was he a Lion like his parents? He _is_ a hero after all.

A Raven? A Badger?

Or, Merlin forbid...a Snake?

Ignoring the eyes watching him from every corner of the Hall, some burning more than others, Frey walked to the stool with the calm grace that was quickly becoming his trademark among his year-mates. It wasn't the aristocratic glide of Malfoy but it was somewhat similar only more...predatory if they would take the time to categorize it.

Lifting the Hat he perched on the stool and lowered it onto his head.

"_My my." _Frey heard whispering in his head. _"You have impressive shields, young Lord."_

"_Thank you."_ He replied politely.

"_I'll need you to lower them, young one." _The Hat was both chiding and apologetic in tone. _"I need to get a feel for what makes you, you to do your Sorting. Though with shields like this I should probably just send you to Slytherin right-off. You'd do well there."_

"_Not Slytherin please." _Frey worked quickly, trying to figure out a way out of this without giving an inch. _"Too much attention for me."_

"_Hmm." _The Hat pondered. It'd been a long while since there was someone who could keep him out. And that young one went right to Slytherin where he remains to this day as the Head. _"If you won't let me in, and Slytherin won't do, what do you suggest young Lordling?"_

"_What about Gryffindor?" _He asked, nearly pleading. He really, really doesn't want to let this Hat into his head. _"Like my parents and Uncle Siri and Uncle Moony?"_

"_Ahh..." _The Hat made an enlightened sound. _"A future Marauder are you? Well then it better be..."_

"Gryffindor!"

And no one saw the wink Frey shot Draco accept for the two of them and a chuckling Hat.

…..

_A/N: A couple days late but better late than never...hopefully will have the rest of year 1 ready by Friday._


End file.
